


am i still ill?

by sarahbacou



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Sickfic, Thor is stupid but we love him anyways, bruce is annoyed bc his boyfriend is dumb, fluff and comfort, fluff no hurt, he's such a himbo, so we kind of throw endgame out the window...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:01:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22846819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahbacou/pseuds/sarahbacou
Summary: wherein thor is sick and bruce is annoyed, but they manage together.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Thor
Kudos: 45





	am i still ill?

**Author's Note:**

> i was cleaning out my notes folder and i found this really short thing i wrote about two years ago. it's dumb and short, but enjoy it anyway!

If Bruce knew that dating Thor brought on a barrage of theatrics this side of the Milky way had never seen, he might have reconsidered saying yes to their first date altogether. The past four days had consisted mainly of Bruce running around Stark tower and driving to convenience stores more than a couple of times before dawn had even shed pale light through their windows, just so Thor could remain in a more comfortable state and Bruce could work on some more equations.

His legs ached from all the errands he’d been running, and Bruce would be lying if he said that the headache that was now knocking on the backside of his brain wasn’t due to the undue amount of stress that Thor was causing him. Honestly, Bruce had seen _children_ handle the flu better than Thor did. The minute he’d gotten the sniffles Bruce thought the world was going to end. Thor had even scared him to the point where he was considering admitting his boyfriend to the sickbay to check for some otherworldly disease. After all that Earth had been through, Bruce didn’t think it would be wise to unleash a horseman-like plague upon civilians. Tests had been run and results had been printed, but it seemed like Thor had just succumbed to a normal common cold, complete with a runny nose and gunk in the chest. Bruce had prescribed his boyfriend Tylenol and rest. Thor didn’t like either of those things.

"In Asgard, we would just have the healers fix whatever ailed us in two minutes,” Thor complained for the hundredth time. He was up to his chin in blankets. Bruce would think it would be cute if not for Thor continuously commenting on his current treatment. 

“That’s nice,” Bruce replied, not looking up from the paper in front of him. He felt Thor lay his shoulder on his head, and Bruce was reminded of a simpler time on Sakaar before they tried to escape; they sat in the Quinjet to regroup, to understand what had unfolded for both of them, and Bruce, in an effort to ground himself, had allowed his head to nestle against Thor’s thick shoulder muscles. It felt right. It felt like home. It still did now. Thor was still home, but right now home was running a temperature of one-hundred and six and acting like it was Ragnarok all over again. (It wasn’t. Bruce checked.)

It was silent for a minute, and Bruce let himself soak in the waterfall of numbers he stared at. They were familiar, they knew their due course. They knew that no matter how mixed up or scrambled they were that Bruce would set them right. Bruce trusted the numbers and the numbers trusted him.

“Are we even sure this… Tylernol is working?”

Bruce slowly lowered his face into the paper, biting his lip.

“Tylenol.” He whispered weakly.

“What?”

“It’s _Ty-len-ol_. Not Tylernol.” Bruce enunciated, lifting his face back up. “And I don’t know if it’s working. Do you feel any better?”

“You’re the doctor.” Thor pointed out. “You can scan me.”

Bruce wasn’t sure if he could contain his frustration for much longer. Hulk was itching at the inside of his bones, uncomfortably popping one or two of Banner’s joints.

“I can’t just _scan you_. As you so cleverly pointed out: we’re not in Asgard. I don’t have that capability at the tower. Tests would take hours, and I don’t want to do that, so just answer me one question. Do you feel like you’re dying?”

“Maybe.”

Bruce looked at Thor incredulously, with one eyebrow raised. “How can you be maybe dying? It’s either yes or no.”

Thor shrugged, bringing a tissue up to his nose to blow into it. “I don’t know. I might have some alien disease-”

“You don’t. Please, for the love of all that is holy, just give me a straight answer. Please. I’m very tired.” Banner slid back from the mountain on pillows that supported his head until all he saw was the ceiling. Thor popped into view a few seconds later.

His eyes were red and puffy from the sickness, and his cheeks sported persistent crimson spots. Bruce made a mental note to try rouge on Thor, because despite all of his physical symptoms, the colored spots didn’t look bad on him at all.

“I’m sorry,” Thor said sheepishly. “I feel a little bit better, I promise. I know I’m not being very fun. I thought that if I joked with you it might get you to smile. You haven’t smiled since I got sick. I miss your smile.”

Bruce brought a hand up and cupped Thor’s cheek, meeting his gaze. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to smile when you’ve annoyed me for four days straight. Just get better, okay? Get better and I’ll give you the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.”

Thor let half of his mouth turn upwards as he lowered his head onto Bruce’s chest. “Deal.”


End file.
